pinkie ^⁠_⁠^

The puddle spread quickly, steaming, until it lapped at the soles of his shoes.

He was already bursting.

Every muscle in his lower body was tense, thighs squeezed together, breath shallow. His belt dug cruelly into his abdomen, pressing into the rock-hard swell of his overfull bladder. He sat hunched on the edge of a low bench, jaw tight, hands gripping his knees. His hair clung to the sides of his flushed face.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t alone.

“You’re squirming,” the voice behind him said, amused. Playful. Dangerous.

“Shut up.” His voice cracked. His legs shifted restlessly, one heel tapping the floor. "Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” The other leaned closer, breath brushing his ear. “Don’t mention how you're shaking? Or how red your face is? Or…”

A hand slid around his waist. He flinched.

“Don’t touch—” he snapped, but the hand was already there, fingers pressing gently against his lower stomach.

It was like being punched. The pressure sent an electric jolt through his body, and a hot, shameful spurt escaped before he could stop it—just enough to dampen his underwear. His legs snapped shut, hands flying to his crotch. He let out a low, desperate whimper.

“Ohhh… you really are full,” the other said, mockingly tender. “It must hurt.”

He bit his lip hard. His eyes shimmered. He couldn’t speak.

Then the hand pushed harder.

He doubled forward with a cry. Another jet of urine forced its way out of him, soaking into the front of his pants. His muscles trembled. The teasing voice didn’t stop.

“You should just let it go,” they whispered. “You know you’re not gonna make it.”

He shook his head furiously, tears slipping down his cheeks. “N-no. I can still—”

But his body had reached its limit.

It started slow—a few more hot spurts, unstoppable now, soaking through his jeans. Then, with a long, broken sob, the floodgates opened.

A gush tore through him. His whole body jerked as piss burst out with a loud hiss, pouring into his jeans with force. The heat spread instantly, soaking down his thighs and pooling beneath him. The sound was obscene—splattering, gushing, the wet hiss echoing off the walls.

He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe. The relief was dizzying, overwhelming. He let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry, slumping forward as the piss thundered out of him, drenching everything. His belt pressed cruelly against the stream, splitting it so it poured in all directions—down his legs, across the seat, onto the floor.

He sat there, soaked, panting, face flushed and streaked with tears, pants heavy with shameful warmth.

The one who teased him didn’t speak now—only watched, lips parted in awe, as the boy shook and whimpered through it. A full minute passed before the hiss finally faded into dripping. Even then, his body gave a few exhausted spurts before it stopped.

“See?” the other finally whispered. “Didn’t that feel good?”

Because the worst part was… it had.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

It had been your first day on the job. Bright eyed and bushy tailed. Perfectly polite and ever so pretty, Yoongi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you as you flitted between conversations. The room too loud that he hadn’t had the chance to hear your voice; though he assumes it would be the sweetest little melody, golden honey like voice soothing to his ears.

And maybe it was too soon to fantasise about what your moans would sound like, how he’d pluck them out of your like he did the notes of a guitar. How breathy they would be, perfect for the background vocals on an almost-complete song that he knew he wanted in the album. How he could tune your voice, pitches higher that usual as he rips orgasm after orgasm out of you with just his tongue.

You were so much younger than the rest of the new employees that wandered between groups of his band mates, but no less professional than all of them. Cute in the way you tried to establish a place among a group of conceited, middle-aged, snobbish new employees who clearly had no hope in your skills. Silently pushing you out of the group, laughs covered by hands and wary eyes veiled with mock concern for your well-being.

A new manager. He later found out when Namjoon had commented on you, how he was happy you didn’t seem all that pushy and nice enough to get along with; respecting his boundaries, along with the grating comment on your looks that Yoongi felt pick away at his patience. Because he knew you were pretty, so soft and delicate and he didn’t need Namjoon’s input when he never asked for it.

You were organised in the way that both Yoongi and Namjoon found stability in. And damn good at your job.

But you were Namjoon’s new manager. Not his.

The company had been doing well, having enough to higher a manager for each member rather than poor Sejin scrambling after 7 twenty somethings, 7 days a week. He’d been loyal, there from the minute they’d had their first debut stage, though he was growing older, had a family of his own now and maybe, it was his time to retreat a little from each of the boys’ lives; trusting a new team to oversee the group.

Each one now working like clockwork as you all settle into the new system.

You were too soft. Too pent on the praise of your superiors. Yoongi couldn’t believe you were a manager when he’d first asked Namjoon about you. But Yoongi wanted you. God, he wanted you so bad.

It had been easier than he’d expected to get his own manager changed with Namjoon’s, the nuisance that he had to deal with for a month, later being found limbless in a ditch far out of the city. His too touchy, hands all over his arms when he just needed space, messaging him at all hours of the day asking where he was, who he was with, fucking piece of shit manager; that he felt no remorse pulling apart like a butcher would a piece of meat, letting any wild animal chew on her greasy skin and gnaw on her bones to their hearts content.

It would have been a shame if he’d accidentally leaked something the company was trying to hide on social media, leaving it up quick enough for his dedicated fans to take a few too many screenshots. And what a shame it would be if those screenshots were to spread across the internet like wild fire.

That slight slip of tongue was all it took for you to now be his. The two sweaty faced management team members, who he never bothered learning the names of, practically kissing his feet as they beg him to keep his mouth shut. That you’ll be his in the morning, if only to give you 12 hours notice before you’re expected at Yoongi’s studio.

You hadn’t batted an eye when you’d been told you’d accidentally been assigned to the wrong idol; simply taking the news with your head held high and a polite smile to whoever the sleazy motherfucker was that oversaw your work. One Yoongi had his eyes on, he could see the way he’d tried to get a look up your skirt as you both wandered up the stairs.

The image of his dead corpse painting the stairs red as Yoongi blinks down at the two of you. And when he got 5 minutes to himself without the Hybe staff breathing down his neck because of his little outburst the day prior, he’d deal with the roach that dared take a peek at your panties.

“Ah— Mr. Min”

You don’t notice the awkward smile on your superiors face, eyes more focused on Yoongi who doesn’t dare look away from you. Keeping your eyes glued to his own as he tries to figure you out from the windows to your soul, swimming with unadulterated curiosity. Naive innocence ever so tempting as you rival a lion.

Your smile irks him. Not because you were happy. No, that makes his heart swell with something a little more possessive, a spark of happiness warming his numb heart. It irks him that countless other people would have been on the receiving end of that sunshine smile that shone rays of golden light over his languidly beating heart, dull thumping in his chest speeding up at the sight of your eyes on him.

“Fuck off” he tuts and you go to turn around with the greaseball, not seeming offended in the slightest as you hop down a step, “Ah ah, not you, Y/n”

Your feet stay glued to the floor at the call of your name, peering up at Yoongi from behind your lashes. Ever so long and pretty and it leaves the producer wondering what they would look like doused in his cum. Grey sweats doing nothing to hide the twitch of his cock as he feels it start to harden at the mere thought of you being so close to him.

You smelled good. Like fresh soap and something a little floral, though nothing too potent that it hurt his nose.

You were prettier close up. And Yoongi starts to scratch the image of you into his mind, every curve of your body he can see; fingers itching by his sides to grab onto any piece of exposed flesh he could see.

“This way” he turns, light pitter patter of your overly cute Mary Janes trailing behind him. Similar to a puppy he supposes. His puppy. His new, pretty, cute little puppy.

He notices you look away when he goes to type the passcode into his studio and his lips quirk up at that. Though you don’t notice, too focused on rocking on your heels to see his amusement.

“Sit” he motions behind him.

And you do. Taking a seat on the couch on the far side of his studio as he falls back into his rolling chair, cracking his neck before he gets back to work.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It seemed the lines between who was in charge between the two of you had slowly started to blur over time. You followed Yoongi around. And he used your authority to his advantage. It was a perfect little arrangement the two of you had.

You never took charge. Letting him whisper what he wanted into your ear and you took it upon yourself to fulfil each and every wish he desired.

He thinks maybe it’s been almost two years since your little… arrangement had started.

He’d noticed your small quirks pretty early on. How easy it was to paint your cheeks ruby red with blush just by calling you ‘my good girl’, hands gently petting down your hair in the way he knows you like.

Watching as your thighs would clench, wondering if your panties had darkened with arousal. It was cute, how easily he could rile you up; really like an overexcited pet that couldn’t get enough of their owner.

You’d do anything for a little bit of praise and Yoongi found himself tugging at his cock on more than one occasion after you’d left for a meeting; your dusty pink cheeks spiking his arousal as you bite your lip each time he reminds you how good you are. And he thinks if you were to have a tail it would slap against the back of your thighs with how hard it would wag.

He hadn’t told you that his manager didn’t have to come to his studio at least once a day for ‘check-ins”. Didn’t tell you that you really didn’t need to wander after him like a pretty little pet as he goes between his and Namjoon’s studio. How you didn’t have to sit on the couch like a spoilt puppy as he works on a new song. Feeding you little sweets every so often for sitting pretty and not saying a word.

But you did do all of that.

Because Yoongi expected you to.

He’d heard a few of your co-workers commenting on how much work you did for Yoongi. That you weren’t supposed to be the one to get his lunch nor remind him to eat dinner otherwise he’ll just forget. That you spent too much time in his studio alone, and the company would start to get suspicious and accuse you of things you weren’t doing.

But what they didn’t know was that he’d made sure you place by his side was permanent, empty threats enough for the company to bow at his feet like he were royalty. He’d toyed with the idea of you quitting your job, merely being his pretty pet that could rut against his leg while he worked, but your position gave him the perfect excuse for you to remain by his side almost all hours of the day.

“Come here, baby” he spins to face you in his chair, watching as you fidget; a nervous habit he’d picked up on.

You stand between Yoongi’s legs, squeaking as he tugs you closer by the backs of your thighs.

“Everything okay?” he muses, watching as you swiftly nod. Flustered that he was able to utter such an intimate pet name for you as if it were really your own.

“Yes” you whisper and Yoongi nods.

“I have a gift for you” he tells you, watching as you perk up at that. Eyes shooting to meet his own, he smiles, a little reassurance that he was being genuine.

“A gift?” you ask, rocking on your heels, bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

“For being so good to me, I thought I’d treat you, baby” he pushes himself back, tugging open one of the drawers below his desk.

You tilt your head, watching as he pulls a pink gift box into his lap; velvety bow keeping the box shut.

“What is it?” you stare down at the box, and Yoongi thinks he can see you start to vibrate with excitement.

“Guess you’ll have to open it”

You fall to your knees, Yoongi smiling as he hands you the prettily wrapped gift. He stares down at you from where he’s sat, wondering just how perfect you really were. Sat on your knees between his thighs, his fingers itching to tug on your hair. Pulling your face closer until you were kissing his cock over the thin fabric of his slacks.

He watches as you gently tug the ribbon, eager fingers lifting the top of the box. You pause, blinking at Yoongi’s gift before you look up at him.

“Don’t you like it, pretty?” he asks, “I could get you another colour if you’d like?”

“No!” you slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at your own outburst, “No, It’s very pretty Yoongi. But what is it for?” you chew on the inside of your cheek, your exciting fizzling to nerves.

“It’s a collar”

“I know that” you nod, “But I don’t have a dog”

Yoongi’s head tips back, gruff laugh bubbling up his throat. And he thinks maybe that had been the first time in years that he had genuinely laughed.

“I know, baby. It’s not for a dog. It’s yours”

Your head tilts in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

“Mine?” you glance down at collar, the prettiest shade of pink. Your eyes catch sight of the pendent, delicate little heart with your initials engraved into the metal.

“Mmhmm” Yoongi hums, “My good girl, yeah?”

You nod. Eyes wide as you stare up at Yoongi like he held all the answers in the world.

“Come here then” his fingers lace into your hair, tugging you across the floor so you were further between his legs.

You stare up at Yoongi expectantly and he wants to shove his cock so far down your throat you choke on it.

He pulls the collar from the box, unclipping the back, “Hair up” he instructs, and you do so.

He tucks two fingers between the leather and your neck, tugging on it lightly to make sure your new collar wasn’t too tight.

“Oh” Yoongi croons, “my pretty little pet. How perfect you are” he pulls you closer so your cheek rests on his thigh.

You stare up at him, opening your mouth to say something, only Yoongi shoves two fingers into your mouth, so far down your throat you cough.

“Pretty puppies don’t talk” he brushes your hair from your forehead. Leaning down you press a gentle kiss between your eyebrows.

Your lips close around his fingers, eyes glazing over with what he can only assume to be pure lust and want as he thrusts them into your mouth.

“You like that?” he hums, “Of course you would”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Collar off” Yoongi pushes himself from his chair. Cracking his neck as he wanders towards you, slouched on the couch.

“No” you shake your head, fingers clasping around the worn leather.

“Excuse me?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. A challenge to refuse him again.

“Collar off, doll. We’re going to eat, I know you haven’t had anything all day”

He watches your fingers wrap tighter around your collar. Mirth swimming behind his eyes at your eager display of displeasure. He’d noticed your collar had become like a safety blanket, the comforting weight around your neck always seeming to ease your anxieties.

He remembers the morning you’d stumbled into his studio, forgetting his morning kiss on the cheek as you’d scrambled to his drawers, eyes red-rimmed as you’d clipped your collar around your neck. Only then it seemed you’d been able to breathe a sigh of relief, before you’d slouched by Yoongi’s feet and suckled on the head of his cock until you were forced to attended a weekly briefing about the band’s schedule.

“Why can’t I wear it outside?” you peer up at him through your lashes, eyes wide in the way you knew Yoongi couldn’t resist.

“If you want everyone knowing you belong to me, fine. Keep it on” he drawls, “But don’t you dare start acting like a brat around me, baby”

You watch him kneel on the other end of the couch, and you crawl over his lap. His hands smooth other your back, fingers dipping past the waist of your pants, grazing over the lace that lined your panties.

“Feel empty, Yoonie” you wriggle, trying to get any sort of friction to alleviate the ache in your cunt.

“Yeah?” he hums and you nod, pitiful in your attempts to please yourself, “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Help” you snivel, crocodile tears coating your cheeks, and Yoongi thinks maybe he’d spoilt you a little too much.

He feels his cock twitch, head falling back as he groans, watching as you tilt your head to meet his gaze, cheeks shiny with saline tears.

He tugs your pants over your ass, panties damp with your arousal as he runs a finger over your covered folds. He pushes the crotch of your underwear to the side, index finger pushing into your hole.

He feels your walls pulsate around his finger, easing a second one into your without so much as a warning before he starts thrusting them into you.

Cute little whines tumble off your tongue in quick succession as you buck your hips to meet his thrust.

Yoongi’s thumb gathers a wad of your slick before he circles your clit, mean as he flicks it with each quick thrust of his fingers nudging against your g-spot.

He feels your thighs start to shake as your shove your own fingers into your mouth, tongue laving them up in saliva like you would a cock; and Yoongi starts to feel his patience waning thin at the sight of your drooling down your chin like his dumb little puppy.

“Gonna cum for me, pet?” he croons, crooking his fingers just the way he know will make you see stars.

Your eyes squeeze shut, breathy little moans accompanied by the lewd squelching of your sodden pussy as Yoongi picks up his pace.

“Wanna cum, please” you choke out, muffled behind your fingers as you other hand grasps onto the loose material of Yoongi’s sweatpants.

“Cum then”

Your thighs clamp shut as you cum, Yoongi undeterred as he continues to flick at your clit, helping you ride out your high. His fingers remain knuckle deep inside of you, thighs still quivering at the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Ready for my cock now, darling?” he pulls his fingers from your slicked walls.

Your breaths come out stuttered, head nodding gently as Yoongi pulls you up from underneath your arms.

You fall to your back on the couch, watching as Yoongi pulls his shirt over his head, pants coming off straight after. He tugs your own clothes off, thrown somewhere on the studio floor.

The producer pulls your thighs apart, groaning at the sight of your glistening folds, creamy cum painting the inside of your thighs.

You watch Yoongi as he tugs at his cock, throaty groan spilling off his lips before he pushes the head of his length through your slit. Gathering up your slick, hand lubing his cock up with your arousal.

The producer doesn’t give you any warning before he’s pushing into you, cockhead facing a little resistance from your tight walls before the rest of his cock is enveloped in your warm heat. Two fingers never had been enough to prep you for him, but if the new wad of slick was anything to go by, you always did seem to like the pleasure accompanied by that delicious lick of pain.

He gentle thrusts to the hilt, thighs flush with the back of your own as he almost bends you in half, basking in the pleasure of your walls rhythmically clenching around his cock before he pulls out to the tip.

Your arms wrap around the producers neck, mouth falling open as he rams his cock back into you, relentless as he starts his onslaught of thrusts.

You thank your lucky stars Yoongi’s studio was soundproof otherwise you may have been a little more reserved with the borderline pornographic moans that dripped off your tongue, sweet like nectar that Yoongi drinks down as he presses his lips together in a bruising kiss.

Your fingers dig into the skin of Yoongi’s back, pleasure written in the marks on his skin, maybe your own fucked up lyrics that would remain on the blank canvas of his back for the next few days, incoherent words that expressed the absolute bliss you were feeling, tumbling so close to another orgasm.

Yoongi leans down, and your head falls into the crook of his neck, hot breath fanning his bare skin as his hips continue to snap forwards, your own body chasing after Yoongi each time he pulls out, only to shove his cock as far back into your as he can.

Your teeth snap shut around his shoulder, metallic taste coating your tongue. And you think you hear Yoongi curse under his breath, ears to muffled with your impending orgasm that you smile up at him when he harshly tugs your face from the crevice between his neck and shoulder.

“You dumb fucking puppy, what did I tell you about biting?” he snaps, though you only reply with a dopey smile as Yoongi’s thrusts slow down, though the force of his cock ramming into you is no less hard.

“You really are a stupid little mutt. Who only ever has my cock on their mind, huh” he huffs out a laugh.

His hands fall around your waist, Yoongi’s pelvis brushing against your clit with every thrust he takes.

A low groan mixes with your staccato of whiney little “ah ahs”

“Fucking cunt is so small I can see myself fucking you” Yoongi laughs, hand meanly pushing down on the little bulge in your stomach each time he fully sheathes himself inside of you.

“Look, you dumb pet” he tugs your head down by the front of your collar, thrusts slowing down.

Your eyes land on the little distension Yoongi’s massive cock makes as the head punches up into your stomach. The thought of Yoongi having to rearrange your guts just to fit his cock into your pussy, paired with the final brush of his pelvis against your sensitive clit is all it takes for you to fall over the precipice of your orgasm.

Your thighs clamp shut, high pitched moan wracking up your throat as Yoongi helps you ride out your high, hands pushing your legs open wider as he continues to snap his hips forwards.

“Too much” you cry as Yoongi continues to thrust into you, no remorse for your cries he chases his own high.

His hands skim over the bulge of his cock in your stomach, head falling back as he feels himself push down on your stomach.

You feel his cock twitch, pitiful tears cascading down your cheeks as Yoongi starts to flick at your clit , your hands trying to push him away from your pussy; too sensitive but the pleasure all too tempting at once.

“Cum again with me” his thrusts become sloppy, less calculated as he reaches his peak. His hips snap into you one more time, pushing himself as far in as he can go before he paints your walls white. Your own orgasm shaking through your body as you feel him fill you with thick cum.

Your thighs continue to shake, shoulders quivering as you continue to snivel, hand held over your cunt where Yoongi keeps himself buried inside of you.

He gently thrusts into you again, making sure his cum is as far inside of you as possible before he starts to pull out.

You protest, croaky little ‘no, inside, inside, stay’ accompanied by a shaky whine as you try and grab onto his nearing flaccid dick, hating the feeling of being empty so soon after being stuff full of his girthy length.

Thick rivulets of Yoongi and your own cum leak from your hole, clenching around nothing pitifully.

Yoongi picks up the mixture of your combined arousal on the tip of his cock before pushing back into you. Watching your mouth falls open, arousal struck smile pulling onto your lips as he gently circles your clit with his thumb.

“Gotta go eat, puppy” he reminds you.

“Inside, Yoonie. Inside” you tug him closer to you with your thighs around his hips, breath hitching as his slowly hardening cock pushes back into your sloppy cunt.

“My stupid baby” he muses, pushing your hair from your forehead, “Never have to take the collar off if you don’t want to”

You smile at that, hips rolling upwards, ambrosian arousal too good to let up on as you slowly work yourself up to another high.

“Always my pretty puppy, yeah?” he asks you, tracing the worn edges of your collar. He had thoughts on buying you a new one soon, though he thinks you’ll throw a temper tantrum, too attached to the grimy pink one you’d now had for years.

“Pretty puppy” is all you manage before your arms are tightly wrapping around Yoongi’s neck, tongue laving up at the bite mark on his shoulder, a silent apology as he flicks your clit; your body shaking as you’re pushed into your nth orgasm of the evening.